


You Can't Go Home Again

by QueenofSchmoop



Series: Anything 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bit of Missouri bashing, Case Fic, Endearments, Established Relationship, Extreme schmoop, Fluff and Angst, Food play (mention), M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Spoilers for All Hell Breaks Loose parts 1 & 2, Talk of Sex Toys, Wincest-Freeform, mention canon character death, use of homophobic terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 12:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofSchmoop/pseuds/QueenofSchmoop
Summary: Missouri calls the boys about a case. Can they hide their new found relationship from a psychic? If not, what will happen to them?





	1. When Missouri calls, you go

"Sam.”

“Sam!”

“Sammy, open the friggin’ door already!”

Sam Winchester swung the door of the motel room open and grinned. “Lose your key?”

Dean Winchester pushed his way inside and went to the table, where he was finally able to drop the groceries he had been carrying. “No, genius.” He reached into his pocket and produced a key. “But kinda hard to get to it with my arms full. What the hell were you doing anyway, to take so long?”

Sam had come over and was pawing through the bags, muttering things like “ever heard of vegetables?” and “frosting in a can?” Now he looked at his brother and said, “Research, Dean.”

“Oh? Find a case for us?” Dean pulled the frosting out of Sam’s hand and put it on his side of the table, out of reach. 

“I wasn’t researching a case.” Sam let the frosting go. He took a small package out of the bag and looked at, raising his eyebrows. He held it up. “This is, like, the 3rd tube of lube you’ve bought in the last week. Exactly how much do you think we need?”

“You know what they say, Sammy, you can never have too much.” Dean started putting the groceries away in the mini-fridge. “And don’t tell me you were looking at porn again. I told you, that doesn’t count as research.”

Sam shook his head. Sometimes his brother could be so obtuse. “I was looking for something to help you.”

Dean looked back over his shoulder, bent over. “I have never needed help in that department, thank you very much.” He sounded very offended. 

Sam wanted to smile but his thoughts had turned melancholy now. “Not what I meant and you know it. I was trying to find a way out for you.”

Dean straightened up. “Sam—“

“I know, Dean. But I have to try. You said you weren’t going to interfere but I never made that promise.”

“I know.” Dean sighed. The playful mood he had created was ruined now. He tried to get it back. “About the frosting, who said it was for me to eat?” He winked lasciviously. 

Sam smiled faintly, knowing what he was trying to do. 

Dean saw the look in his eyes and crossed over to his Sammy, putting his arms around him. “Hey. Remember the deal?”

“Yeah. I can look for a way out but other than that we live our life just the same.”

“Exactly. That bitch will get me but until then I intend to live my life, Sammy. With a generous helping of sex, I hope.” Here Dean tried to give Sam a pout, which made him just look cross-eyed. Sam laughed.

“I think that can be arranged.” 

They kissed. 

“Mmmm, you taste sweet,” Dean mumbled. 

“It’s the syrup from the waffles at breakfast,” Sam replied against his brother’s mouth. 

Dean pulled back slightly. “Man, here I was trying to be all romantic and shit and you say something like that?” He grabbed Sam, spun him around and backed him up, throwing him down on the bed. He climbed on, straddling Sammy’s body. “There is no romance in your soul at all, is there?”

Sam was laughing as he wrapped his arms around his big brother and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. One hand in that short hair, one sneaking down to cup Dean’s ass, he grinned. 

“Nope. None at all.”

Dean inwardly cheered ‘mission accomplished—Sam is smiling again!’ and bent to kiss him again. The kiss turned feverish as Dean’s hands came up under Sam’s shirt and caressed his skin. Sam’s back arched as those skilled hands tweaked his nipples. Their hips touched and Dean couldn’t help but grind down into the man below him. A moan escaped Sam’s lips as he wrenched out of the kiss to hoarsely say “clothes off. Now!”

“But sweetheart, what about the foreplay?” Dean teased. 

Sam was sitting up and stripped Dean of his jacket and shirt with speed. “Oh there’s gonna be foreplay. Naked, sweaty foreplay.” He felt Dean shiver. His hands fell to the zipper that was blocking him access. He pulled it open and began to push the denim off. They got caught at Dean’s bent knees and Sam growled. Another shiver went through Dean. God, he loved it when Sam growled like that! 

“I’ll get these, you get naked,” Dean told him, scooting to the edge of the bed and sliding the jeans down. He got them off and tossed them in the corner then peeled his underwear off too. Naked now he turned back to Sam. And stopped. 

Sam had followed orders. He had taken off his shirt, pants and underwear. He was gloriously naked, laying down on the bed—stomach down, beautiful ass up. 

Dean made a sound that sounded like “murh?” and Sam looked back over his shoulder at him. Eyes cloudy with desire, he looked Dean’s naked form up and down then licked his lips. 

He held a hand out in invitation. “C’mere?”

It was a measure of the newness of their sexual relationship that Sam made it a question and not a demand. Dean’s eyes went a little misty--though he would deny it to anyone--and he took his little brother’s hand. Climbing back onto the bed he bent down and kissed that sweet mouth. 

“Mmmmm.” Passing languid kisses over Sam’s cheek, Dean made his way back to his ear, nuzzling behind, then rubbing his nose in that soft hair. One hand still trapped in Sammy’s, the other tracing soft circles on his back, Dean inhaled his brother’s scent. 

“Love you Sammy,” came the whisper. 

“Love you too Dean,” came the instant reply. A head lifted and reclaimed Dean’s mouth for a soft kiss then let go. 

Dean pressed his mouth to that long slender neck and licked. He felt Sam jolt and grinned. He kissed, suckled and licked his way around that expanse of skin then slowly began making his way down Sammy’s naked back. 

Sam’s lower half shifted occasionally, so turned on was he by Dean’s sensual assault. He practically came off the bed when Dean licked a wet stripe up from his lower back. 

“Dean!”

“Yes, baby?”

“Oh god, Dean.”

Dean grinned. His free hand, the other still trapped in Sammy’s vise-like grip, moved down and caressed Sam’s sweet ass. His mouth followed. 

“Need my other hand, Sammy.”

Sam was so far into lust he almost didn’t understand the words. They finally signaled his brain and he let go. Dean moved further down the bed and put one hand on each of Sam’s cheeks. He parted them and exposed his brother’s rosy hole. He nearly passed out as he felt a rush of lust. 

They had only done this once before. Sam had seemed hesitant when Dean had suggested it but was willing to try. Dean had gone slowly and explained what he was doing every step of the way. No need for that now. Remembering that Sam had enjoyed it last time he circled that rosebud with one finger. 

This time it was Sam who shivered. His hands were clenching the pillow tightly as he fought not to just beg Dean to do it to him. He felt the hot breath and crushed the pillow in his hands. He pushed his face in it as the wet heat of Dean’s tongue penetrated him. His cries muffled, hips moving of their own accord, he drowned in sensual pleasure as Dean tongue fucked him. 

Suddenly the wet heat was gone and he groaned. Dean’s body moved back up and his hands raised Sam’s face from the pillow. Their eyes met.

“No, baby. I want to hear you.”

Sam flushed red. He knew how vocal he could be when Dean was making love to him and was embarrassed by it. Dean knew that as well but he loved hearing Sam too much. He knew Sam had nothing to be embarrassed about. 

“Please Sammy?” He smiled inwardly, knowing that Sam would give in with that heartfelt request. Sure enough Sam sighed and nodded and pushed the pillow out of the way, but kept it where his hands could still grip it. 

“Thank you.” Dean slid back down Sam’s body, pausing to kiss at random skin. He opened Sam back up again and dived back into his feast. This time his ministrations were accompanied by whimpers, moans, little cries and the occasional “Dean!”

After several minutes Dean lifted his mouth enough to ask, “can you get up on your hands and knees?”

Sam groaned but obeyed. He knew Dean did not ask for things in bed unless he had a damn good reason so he used shaky hands to do it. 

“Thank you, Sammy.” As Dean’s mouth returned to its previous activity one hand snaked around and took firm hold of Sam’s dick, which jumped in his hand. Sam let out a loud groan and his hips moved. His head spun as Dean rimmed him and jerked him off at the same time. Babble fell from his lips consisting mostly of “Dean” “more” “oh god” “that feels good” “yeah, touch me” and so forth. 

“Getting close, Dean,” Sam finally let him know. Dean put a little extra effort in both of his actions and Sam squirmed, panted hard and then, with a shout, came. Dean stayed right where he was the whole time then slid his tongue out of his brother and kissed each butt cheek, letting go of Sammy’s cock. 

Sam fell to the bed. He stayed still for a long moment then rolled over on his side, looking back at Dean. Dean nearly passed out at seeing the come coating Sammy’s chest and hips. His cock had been hard as a rock during his rimming of Sam; it had taken some serious self-control not to shoot off when his brother did. It pulsed at the vision in front of him. 

Sam’s eyes fell to the sight and he licked his lips. He got up and crawled to his brother, head lowering. As soon as Sam’s mouth touched Dean’s cock he let out a deep moan and tried not to come right then and there. Sam’s blowjobs were fantastic. After the first one Dean had quizzed him on how come they were so good. Sam teased him about being jealous. Dean freely admitted he was and said he still wanted to know how he learned to give one so well. Sam had told his big brother that it must just be instinct because he had never given oral sex before. Not even on Jess. Dean had been happy to hear that.

It didn’t take long until Dean was running a hand through Sam’s hair and panting “Sammy, gonna come.”

Sam kept sucking. The first time he had been a little afraid to swallow and so had let Dean’s pull out. He had ended up spending half an hour in the bathroom cleaning up, especially his eyes, and from then on had swallowed. The first time he had, Dean had nearly come again. 

The orgasm hit and Dean released his load down that warm throat. When the last spurt was gone Sam let Dean’s dick out of his mouth, giving it a soft kiss. Dean twitched. 

“Come here, Sammy.” Dean lifted Sam up to him and they kissed, sharing the tastes of each other. He started to lay Sam back down but Sam resisted.

“Wet spot.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean realized this was the disadvantage of getting one bed instead of two. “Just a sec.” He got up off the bed and pulled the coverings off, almost making Sammy tumble to the floor. Sure enough Sam had soaked the bedding but not the mattress. They had slept on worse. He got back and pulled Sam to him, settling down with him. 

As they lay wrapped in each other, Dean murmured, “We never got to the frosting.”

Sam laughed and promised, “Next time.”

It was the ringing of a cell phone that woke Dean. He slapped a hand onto the nightstand, knocking over several items. He grabbed the phone at last and flipped it open with one hand. The other was trapped under Sam’s big body. 

“Yeah?”

“Is that anyway to answer the phone, Dean Winchester?”

Dean sat up and then bit back a swear word. He was surprised. It had been a while since they had heard from--“Missouri?”

“Who else do you think I am, child?” came the woman’s irate voice. 

Dean held back a sigh. “Is this just a social call?” he inquired. 

“Don’t you sass me, boy! Remember that spoon. And no, I called because I need your help. You and Sam come on back here to Lawrence.”

By now Sam was waking up. He saw Dean on the phone and mouthed, “who is it?”

“Missouri,” he said into the phone, speaking to her but letting Sam know as well, “I don’t know if that’d be such a great idea.”

“If you’re worried about the police being on your tail, boy, don’t you fret about that none. You’ll be safe here. I’ve seen that.”

“Seen as in psychic vision?” Dean asked.

“Of course.”

“Missouri, I just don’t know. It’s been a rough time for me and Sam lately and we’ve been taking some downtime.”

“Well vacation is over, Dean. You boys come on down here.” Her voice left no room for argument. “I’ll expect you in a few days.” Then she hung up. 

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. He made a noise of disgust and then closed it and put it back on the dresser. 

“What does Missouri want?” Sam asked, still sitting up. 

“She wants our butts in Lawrence, apparently. C’mere.” Dean gestured but Sam stayed where he was. 

“Why? Is something wrong?” 

“She said she needed our help,” Dean reluctantly admitted. 

“Then we’ve got to go Dean.” Sam began to get out of bed. Dean’s hand shot out, yanking him back down to the mattress. 

“We will. Though I don’t really want to. We’ve been through so much lately, Sammy,” Dean’s eyes unfocused, “and we’ve still got about a hundred demons to get.”

“I know, Dean,” Sam said softly, cuddling back down with his brother. “But maybe Missouri can…” He stopped. Coughed and then said, “Plus, we kinda owe her for her help with the House and all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, we’ll go. But can we get some more sleep first?” 

Sam laughed and kissed his brother. “We just had a nice little nap. We should get going.” He got up and started to hunt for his clothes. 

Dean groaned. “But the room’s paid up til tomorrow!”

“C’mon Dean,” Sam coaxed. He began putting his clothes back on then stopped. He put them back down. 

“You gonna go naked?” Dean leered.

Sam smiled. “You’d like that huh? No, I just realized I have dried come all over me. I’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

Dean got up suddenly. “I’ll join you.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Sam held out a hand. “I said I wanted to take a quick shower. If you come in with me it’ll be anything but quick.”

A grin. “You say the sweetest things, Sammy.”

Sam went to take his shower and Dean began to gather their things. He had just finished when Sam came out, wrapped in a towel. “Your turn.”

Dean stood and stared at his brother’s glistening skin.

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, I said the shower’s free.”

“What?” Dean obviously hadn’t heard, or perhaps hadn’t cared. 

Sam was blushing now. He always did when Dean so blatantly showed his appreciation for his body. “You can take your shower now.”

“Yeah, shower.” Dean didn’t move. 

“”Dean…” Sam crossed over to him. “Come on, we’ve got to get going,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah, I know.” He suddenly grabbed Sam and kissed him hard. “But one of these days when you come out of the shower I’m going to lick every last drop of water off you.”

Sam was instantly hard. He made himself step away. “Looking forward to it,” he told his brother. As Dean walked by him, he sternly told himself not to grab him and throw him against the nearest surface and stick his tongue down Dean’s throat. He didn’t move a muscle until the door to the bathroom closed firmly. Then he took a deep breath, reached down and adjusted himself. 

He’d just finished packing his laptop in his messenger bag when Dean emerged from the shower. He hadn’t noticed that Dean had taken his clothes in there but he must have for Dean was fully dressed, except for socks and boots. He even had his amulet on. 

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get there?”

“With me driving my baby? We can be there by morning.”

Sam smiled. They grabbed their gear, loaded the Impala and then Sam went to check them out while Dean riffled through his cassette tapes. He was listening to Motorhead when Sam came back out. Motorhead gave way to Metallica which gave way to AC/DC. By the time Led Zeppelin was on it was the early hours of the morning and they had the roads all to themselves. Dean was blasting the tape in an effort to stay awake. He had also bought a huge black coffee at the last stop and that was helping too. 

Sam was asleep beside him. Having learned at a young age to sleep through pretty much all of Dean’s mullet rock, he didn’t even twitch as Led Zep blaring in his ears. Occasionally Dean would glance aside at the peaceful form and once even carded his fingers through Sam’s silky hair. His brother had murmured happily and smiled in his sleep. It had given Dean a warm fuzzy feeling--that he would admit to no one other than Sam and even then it would have to be under duress. 

He drove on.


	2. It's impossible to keep secrets from a psychic

The sunrise made Dean blink and he scrambled for his sunglasses, not remembering where he had put them. They were in Kansas now, closing in on Lawrence. He heard but could not see Sam waking up. 

“Dean?” came a muzzy voice. 

“Morning sunshine.”

“What time izzit?”

“About 6 AM.”

“You let me sleep all night? Dean, you should have woken me up!”

Dean stopped at a stop sign and turned to his brother. “But you looked so cute and peaceful, Sammy,” he teased. “Thank goodness you weren’t drooling. If you drool on my car I will kill you.”

“No you won’t,” came the sure reply. “You love me too much.”

Dean squirmed in embarrassment. “Yeah,” he said softly. 

“Love you too, Dean.” 

Dean knew he had a sappy smile on his face but he just couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He coughed. “Anyway, we should be at Missouri’s in another 45 minutes or so. Longer if we stop to eat.”

Just then Sam’s phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at it curiously. “Hello?”

“Don’t you boys even think of eating some fast food trash. I will have breakfast waiting for you when you get here, you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam said obediently. 

“You tell your brother that he’s not to be reckless and speed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. See you when you get here Sam dear.” And with that she hung up. 

“Missouri?” Dean asked but he already knew the answer.

“She wants me to tell you not to speed and that she’ll have breakfast for us.”

Dean shook his head. “That woman.”

Sam suddenly stiffened. 

“Sam?” Dean was instantly concerned. “What is it?”

“She’s psychic.”

“Yeah and…?”

“Dean, what if she knows about us? What if she can tell?”

Dean stared straight ahead. “I don’t know Sam. We never talked about it, about how we’re going to act around people we know.” He concentrated more than was necessary on the next intersection. 

Sam saw this. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull. Over.”

“Sam, why—“

“Dean.”

Dean pulled over on the shoulder of the road. Luckily they were on a highway and not in a town. Sam took matters into his own hands, literally. He put one hand on Dean’s shoulder, the other on his face and turned him to face him. 

“Listen to me. I love you. I’m not ashamed of us. It’s totally up to you how much or how little you want to tell people about us. Want to take an ad out in the papers, that works for me. Want us to be discreet, that works too. All that matters is that you know the truth. That we’re lovers as well as brothers. Okay?”

Dean nodded, his voice cracking a little as he said, “Okay.” 

Sam leaned in and kissed his lover’s lips. They traded gentle kisses for long moments and then Dean sat back. He took the car out of park and started to drive again. Sam sat back in his seat with a warm look in his eye. 

They drove in relative silence, the tape having ended. They stopped at a gas station outside of Lawrence to go to the bathroom and splash water on their faces. Sam went in and bought two large coffees, handing one to Dean as he slid back into the car. Dean took it gratefully. He sipped at it as he negotiated the city streets. Sam took bigger gulps of his coffee, needing the caffeine. 

They pulled up to Missouri’s house at last. Dean shut the car off and looked at the house. “Is it too late to go back to Wyoming?”

Sam laughed. “C’mon, Dean, I’ll protect you.”

Dean followed his brother up the steps. As they neared the door, it flew open and out stepped Missouri Mosley. 

“Sam!” she cried as she saw him. She went right up to him, holding out her arms for a hug. 

“Hello Missouri. How are you?”

“Oh I can’t complain. Well, that’s not true I could complain but what good would it do?” She pulled back out of the hug and took hold of Sam’s face. “Oh let me look at you.” She blinked hard. “Goodness, you have been through a lot lately, haven’t you?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And what’s this about Dean?”

Dean stepped in, clearing his throat. “No hug for me, Missouri?”

She turned to look at him, shooting one more glance at Sam. “Why should I hug you, Dean Winchester? Sassing back to me, calling me things in that dirty mind of yours.” Her gaze narrowed as she looked at Dean. “Speaking of that, what are you hiding from me, boy?”

Now it was Sam’s turn. “Didn’t you say that breakfast was going to be waiting for us?” He offered his arm to Missouri, who turned away from Dean. “I bet whatever you made is delicious.”

“Why thank, Sam. I made blueberry pancakes and my special Eggs. C’mon in now and eat.” She shot back at Dean, “you too, boy.”

With a roll of his eyes “I saw that!” Dean followed his brother into the house. They were led to the kitchen, served (Sam first), lectured (Dean) on their table manners, asked about their lives, lectured some more (“Do NOT talk with your mouth full, Dean!”) and then offered seconds—well Sam was. Sam declined politely but accepted an offer of coffee. Dean managed to procure a cup as well and Missouri sat down with them, her own steaming cup of java in front of her. 

“So you told Dean that something was wrong?” Sam prompted. 

“Yes,” the woman nodded. “A few weeks ago a man came to see me. He said he wanted a reading because he believed that he had been cursed. I looked him over, read the cards for him and told him he wasn’t. He asked me to do it again, sure that he had been cursed. I told him that what I had seen the first time was true but I did the reading for him again. And again it was the same. He became agitated and began yelling at me that he was cursed, Dammit and why wouldn’t I tell him who had cursed him? I told him to leave. He did.” 

She paused for a sip of coffee. 

“Three days later they found his body in his home. There was blood everywhere, just not much left in his body. He had been killed. Murdered might be a better word for, butchered even.” 

Sam leaned forward and touched her arm. “You saw it?”

“The police called me in because my number was found on the man’s body. Yes, I saw it Sam. It was horrible.”

Sam patted her arm lightly, giving what comfort he could. 

“You’re thinkin’ maybe now that he was cursed?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t know what to think. I honestly did not see anything dark or evil when I did his reading but something sure tore that man apart.” She sighed and looked away. “I thought you boys could investigate.”

“Why us?” Dean asked. “Why not look into it yourself?”

“You boys have more practice with this sort of thing. I’m just a psychic. You’re the ones who were trained to hunt evil.”

“There is that,” Dean agreed. 

“We’ll help,” Sam told her. 

“We will?” Dean turned to look at his brother. 

“Of course! Dean, this is Missouri we’re talking about. She’s our friend.”

“Your friend maybe,” was muttered under the breath. 

“What did you say, boy?”

“Nothing, ma’am.”

“Nothing sure sounded a lot like—“

Sam interjected. “Missouri, what was this guy’s name?”

“Randall. Randall Hamilton.”

“We’ll look into it,” Sam told her, nodding. Dean sighed and then added, “yeah, don’t worry, Missouri, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean started to stand. 

“Where are you going?”

“To find a motel, dump off our gear then we’ll head to the library to do some research.”

“You mean, I’ll do some research,” Sam teased him good-naturedly. “You will sit there, pretending to thumb through books but mostly just waiting for the next pretty girl to walk by so you can hit on her.”

Dean looked at his brother. He was about to answer when Missouri broke in. 

“Of course you’re not going to a hotel! You’ll stay here.”

Both boys started to protest. 

“Nonsense! You’re staying here and that’s final. Go out and grab whatever stuff you need and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Rooms. As in plural. This was getting worse by the minute. Dean opened his mouth to speak but subsided at the death glare he got from the woman’s eyes. He meekly surrendered and headed out to the Impala with his brother. They were out of earshot of the house when he turned to Sam and grabbed his arm. 

“What was that about?”

“What?” Sam asked. 

“That bit about me hitting on girls.”

Sam looked confused. “What about it?”

“What’dya mean by that?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just sayin’.”

“Just sayin’ what, exactly? That I’m a big man whore?”

Sam stopped. “What?”

“Cause that’s what it sounded like to me, Sammy. Like you were saying even though I love you and we’re together, I’ll be hitting on anyone anytime.”

Sam looked at his brother. He stepped closer. “Dean, that is not what I meant at all.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Sam ducked his head for a minute then looked back up, eyes sad. “I was just teasing you, Dean. It’s what we do. I never meant to hurt you. I certainly never meant to imply that you’re a man whore or a slut or anything.”

Dean looked away. “You don’t think I’ll stay faithful to you?”

Sam shook his head. “Of course you will. I know that. Hey.” He reached out and took hold of his brother’s face, turning it back toward him. “I guess I was just falling back on old patterns because I couldn’t say what I really wanted to say.”

“And what would that be?” Dean asked, voice still tight. 

“That I would do the research while you sat there looking yummy and making me want to set fire to the library so we could go have mind bending sex for hours.” Sam shrugged. “Somehow it didn’t seem like a good thing to say in front of Missouri. Not because I’m ashamed,” he added quickly, “it’s just I’d rather not talk about our sex life in front of, you know, people we know. Or strangers. Or ever. It’s none of their business.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean started to move away. 

“Dean…”

He swung back and looked at his not-so-little brother. “But you know that I will never cheat on you, right? I may flirt cause, you know, can’t help that, it’s part of the job most times but you’re the only one for me, Sammy. You know that, right?”

Sam had never seen Dean so insecure. “I know that,” he replied softly. 

“Cause you are,” Dean interrupted. “Might as well put a ring on my finger.”

Sam froze. He looked at his brother. “Ring?”

“As in married, Sam.”

“Yeah I got that.” He paused. “Do you feel tied down, Dean?”

“What?” Dean’s face crinkled in confusion. 

“Do you want more freedom? Freedom to look around? Cause we aren’t actually married.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Sammy? I know we’re not married.”

“I know you love me and all but you don’t have to commit yourself totally to me if you don’t want to. I mean, if there are others you want to sleep with or something—“

“Why would I want to sleep with anyone else?” Dean’s voice was rising. 

“I don’t know!” Sam’s had gotten louder too. “I’m just thinking that you sounded kinda like a man contemplating his doom when you mentioned the ring thing. I know that you don’t like being tied down and I thought maybe I should give you a way out is all.”

“A way out.”

“Yes. If I’m not enough for you—“ Sam was cut off as his brother yanked him around the corner of the house and shoved him against the wall. 

“Not enough? Samuel Winchester, don’t be a friggin’ moron! Of course you’re enough. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed and everything I’ve ever desired in one badly dressed and shaggy haired package. I love you and if I could marry you and put that ring on my finger and one on yours and keep people from looking at you like you’re part of the dinner buffet I would do it in a heartbeat! Don’t you understand that there are going to be girls who turn me on and girls who I think are pretty but you’re the one I love, idiot! I was never going to leave you when we were brothers, what makes you think it changed when we became more?”

Sam stood there, pressed against the hardness of the Missouri’s siding, stunned. 

“Sam? I didn’t bang your head, did I?” Dean asked after a few minutes had passed. “Cause I, ulpmph!” Dean found himself very thoroughly embraced and kissed. 

When Sam finally let him up for air he saw tears in his eyes. 

“Sam?” He touched that much loved face softly. “Sammy, why ya cryin’?”

“I love you.”

“Well, yeah, I can understand why that would make a person—“

“Dean, shut up. You had your turn, now it’s mine.” Looking to make sure Dean was silent Sam spoke, “I was afraid.” He stopped Dean from speaking. “I know you love me and I know that you chose me and all but I was still afraid that you would change your mind or that I wouldn’t be enough for you or something. I was afraid that you would need to find other ways to fulfill your needs. I mean, our sex life has been fantastic, Dean but we haven’t, you know,” Sam ducked his head, “done _that_ yet. I guess I thought that maybe you’d go looking for it elsewhere or something. Or you’d get bored with me. Or whatever. Cause you’re it for me, Dean. I want you in a way I never wanted Jessica or Madison or Sarah. I don’t mean in that ‘you complete me’ sense. I like to think I’m a complete person already. But in that you compliment me in a way none of them did. You understand like none of them did. And you turn me on in a way none of them did.”

Sam was still looking down. “If we could I would drive us to Vermont or take a slow boat to Hawaii or wherever and I would put that ring on your finger and marry you in an instant but that still wouldn’t change the fact that I’m yours for eternity, Dean. I think I always was but couldn’t admit it, even to myself. And I guess I was afraid that I wasn’t enough for you in return.”

Strong hands cupped and lifted his face. Eyes met and Dean smiled gently. 

“You’re a moron, you know?” he said softly. “You were the one I was always waiting for, the only one I ever really wanted. The only one I need and the only one I want. You say you’re mine? Well, I’m yours, Sammy. Have been, heart, body, mind and soul since the day you were born. And even if we never do _that_ ,” he smiled, “it’s cool because what we have is pretty incredible anyway. Don’t get me wrong,“ Dean waved a hand, “I’m hoping we do get to that. I’m hoping once you’re comfortable that we do that so much that something ends up being broken or at least dented for a week or two.” He smiled as Sam let out a laugh. “And I would get on a plane to fly to Hawaii with you to do the marriage thing if we could. Hey, we wouldn’t even have to change our names or do that stupid hyphenated thing!” Dean kissed his brother’s lips. “Love you, Sammy.”

“Love you, Dean,” Sam returned the kiss. 

“Sorry I overreacted in there.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry I said that stuff.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tease me.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry I did tease you.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry you didn’t understand.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand too.” _Kiss._

“I’m sorry—“

“Oh for God’s sake!”

Both boys jumped apart at the sound of Missouri’s voice. They stared at the woman standing off the side of them. “I swear you boys are worse than a couple of teenage girls! Did you work everything out?” Both boys nodded dumbly. “Good. Then grab your stuff and get on inside!” She marched away, muttering something under her breath about ‘men’ and ‘fools in love’. 

They looked at each and then turned as one and went to the car and grabbed their gear. They went back inside, not sure what to expect. Missouri was waiting near some steps. 

“Well come on. This way.” She led the silent boys up the stairs and down a hallway. There were two doors opposite each other. She threw open one door. 

“This is the guest room.” It was very nicely decorated, mostly done in whites and yellows. A twin bed was the centerpiece of the room. “Sam, this will be your room.” She gestured and Sam stepped in and dumped his bag on the floor. He looked around appreciatively. 

“Thanks Missouri.” He glanced at Dean. “Where’s Dean going to sleep?”

Missouri smiled. “I thought about putting him on the couch downstairs but I figured he’d leave bad impressions on it for my next client.”

“Hey!”

“So I thought you could sleep over there,” Missouri pointed at the room across the hall. Dean walked over to the door and opened it. It was a small sitting room with an even smaller looking couch on it. Sam had followed. 

“Missouri, maybe Dean could sleep with me.” Sam blushed and quickly corrected himself. “I mean, he could sleep in my bed. I mean, he could sleep in my room!”

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean placated him. Apparently they were all going to pretend that the psychic hadn’t seen what she had seen. Dean could play along. “I’ve slept in worse places.” Ooo, that got him a nasty look. 

“No. Missouri, really,” Sam took a breath, “you saw us out there so you know that Dean and I…we’re together now. If you’re worried about that or grossed out or whatever I would have thought you would have kicked us out or something. So why not let us sleep together? In the same bed, I mean,” Sam hurried on. 

The older lady turned from staring balefully at Dean and looked at Sam. “Yes, I saw you. I knew about it before that, of course. Soon as I touched you boys. And while I think what you’re doing is wrong—not because you’re men but because you’re brothers—it’s not for me to judge. You boys will get up to what you’ll get up to. You always were stubborn that way. Especially you,” she pointed at Dean. “But what I don’t want is to be kept up all night by,” paused and gave the next word meaning, “noises. I’m old and need my sleep.”

“We won’t keep you up. I promise,” Sam quickly told her. 

“Speak for yourself, Sammy,” Dean muttered again, just loud enough to be heard. 

Missouri didn’t even bother with a glare this time. “I know you’d start out with the best of intentions, Sam. But I also know young men. No, I think it’s better you two sleep apart.”

“Or we could go to a motel,” Dean pointed out. “That way everybody’s happy.”

Sam looked away from Dean and nodded. “Yeah, maybe that would be best Missouri.”

“I don’t think so. If I left you boys alone you’d be up to all kinds of things and never get anything done. This way you’ll have plenty of time to do the job.” She spoke with such finality that both boys knew better than to argue. “Well? Put your stuff away and then you can go do that stuff you were saying earlier.” With a sweeping gesture she walked away. 

Dean sighed and dumped his bag in the little room. Sam came over to him. “We could still go to a motel.”

“Yeah and be lectured by Ms. Mosley? I don’t think so. It’s okay, Sam. We can get through this. Right?”

Sam nodded sadly. “Yeah, sure.”

“Boys!”

“Coming!” they shouted together. 

“I don’t want you boys eating crap at the local diner so you make sure you come home for lunch, you understand?”

“Yes Missouri.”

“Now be good and I’ll see you later.”

“Yes Missouri.”

The boys got while the getting was good. Dean climbed into the Impala with a sigh of relief. “Maybe I’ll just sleep in the car tonight.”

Sam smiled. “It won’t be that bad, I’m sure.”

Dean kept his mouth shut. He and Sam hadn’t slept apart since admitting their feelings for each other. Since Sam, well, died. Dean knew it was going to be hell. But he simply turned the radio up and starting singing along to AC/DC. They made it to the library fairly quickly. Sam practically bounded up the steps, Dean moved much slower but with a smile on his face. How his Sammy loved libraries! He watched as Sam charmed a librarian old enough to be their grandmother and ended up at a small table with a pile of books taller than his head. Sam gestured Dean over and he went with little reluctance. They sat down to do some research on Randall Hamilton.

Three hours later they hadn’t learned a great deal that was helpful. Hamilton had been in his 40s who had never married. He had been a businessman, owning a small realty business. He lived, according to his neighbors, a quiet life and seemed to only have a few friends and no family. He kept to himself, people said and did his work. A great Aunt had been discovered at last who seemed to be his only living relative. She had claimed the body and had him cremated. 

“Takes care of the burning thing,” Dean commented when he read that. 

Sam hummed in reply. He was absorbed in a genealogy text and was biting his lip in concentration. Dean felt a stirring in his pants that became more as Sam licked his lips while he turned the page. He gulped as he watched Sam use his index finger to trace down a page, imagining that finger tracing down his skin. He watched his brother shut the book with a sigh of frustration and then stretch his arms over his head, working his neck from side to side. 

Sam turned to Dean and blinked as he saw the heat in his eyes. 

“Dean?”

“God Sammy, what you do to me.”

“What?”

Dean shook his head at Sam’s obliviousness. 

“No, what did you mean, Dean?” 

“Never mind. Let’s see if we can’t find the history of the house.” 

With reluctance they resumed their search. About an hour and a half later they had come up with nothing. No bloody deaths, no ghostly visits, no curses laid upon the house. 

Sam looked at his watch. 

“Crap. Dean we gotta get back. It’s almost time for lunch.”

Dean sighed. He stood up reluctantly, not really wanting to go back to Missouri’s. Sam saw this. 

“If you really don’t want to go back there we don’t have to,” he told his brother. 

The older Winchester turned to look at his brother. “I don’t like it much. But there will be other times when we might need to do this sort of thing so I guess I better get used to it.” He sounded so resigned. 

Sam glanced around and then grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him back into one of the stacks. Pressing him against a shelf Sam lowered his mouth for a scorching kiss. They devoured each other’s mouths, hands roaming over clothed skin. As Sam’s mouth worked along Dean’s right cheek back to his ear, he extended his tongue and gave a lick. A shiver went through Dean. He murmured into Sam’s ear, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cream my pants.”

“Is that supposed to stop me or encourage me?” was the teasing reply. 

“I’m not sure.”

Sam laughed and licked one more time then let go of his brother. 

Dean groaned. “I think maybe I meant to encourage you,” he said.

Sam simply smiled and took his big brother’s hand. He led him through the library, ignoring any stares. They made it out to the Impala without incident. 

“You know, we could always find a place to park…” 

Sam laughed. “And get in trouble with Missouri?”

“Tease.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Lover.”

“Angel.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Darling.”

“Honey.”

“Sugarlips.”

“Mine.”

Dean nodded. “Always.”

Sam smiled. “Think you can find a place?”

Dean’s grin threatened to break his face. “Oh, I’m sure I can,” he teased Sam, immediately putting his foot down on the pedal. They were racing through town when Sam’s cell phone rang. 

They both were pretty sure who it was. Sure enough—

“Hello Missouri. No we didn’t forget about lunch. No ma’am. We’re on our way. Yes, ma’am. See you soon.” He hung up. “We’re late.”

“Screw that.”

“Dean.”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” His foot eased up on the gas and he slowed back down to the speed limit. He drove them back to the Mosley house.


	3. Looking that good should be illegal

They were looked at suspiciously but fed a wonderful and filling lunch while Sam told Missouri what they had found out. She made only a few remarks toward Dean in that time, mostly concentrating on what Sam was telling her. 

“What’s the next step?” she asked, handing Sam another biscuit and slapping Dean’s hand away from more food at the same time. “You’ve had enough, you don’t want to get fat,” she told him as he scowled at her. 

“We’ll ask around, see if anyone knows anything they aren’t telling. We’ll have to hit the local bars tonight,” Sam looked at Dean. They both knew this was Dean’s area of expertise. “In the meantime we’ll head over to his house and check it out.” Sam finished his food and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Thanks Missouri, that was great.” 

The psychic beamed. “Why thank you Sam! At least you have the manners to give appreciation for a person’s hard work cooking.” 

Dean protested, “I was about to say something!” He sighed internally as they headed out of the house, Missouri giving them directions to the Hamilton house. 

It turned out to be a dead end. After thoroughly searching the place they found nothing. No suspicious objects or notes. Sam spent an hour going through the computer while Dean pried into places looking for secrets and using the EMF. Neither found anything that helped them in the slightest. Randall Hamilton seemed to be a good and, well, boring person. 

“Maybe it was a family thing,” Dean put out as they drove back to Missouri’s. They had knocked on the neighbors doors but no one had been home. They planned to come back the next day if they didn’t find anything out that night. “Maybe the curse goes so far back it was forgotten about.”

“I suppose.” Sam seemed to be thinking, staring out the window. 

“$3 for your thoughts.”

Sam turned, startled. “Three dollars?”

“Sounded better in my head,” Dean shrugged. 

Sam smiled. “Just thinking. Not about the case. Sorry.”

“No big deal Sammy. You’re allowed to think about other stuff,” he teased his little brother. 

Sam just smiled distractedly and turned back to look out his window. Dean frowned a bit but left it alone. They were silent the rest of the way back. They informed Missouri of their lack of findings and then Dean announced he was going to take a nap. Missouri opened her mouth to say something but Sam interrupted her. “You know, that sounds like a good idea,” he agreed. “It might be a long night so we should get a bit of shuteye right now. Missouri, would it be all right if Dean and I used the bed in the guest room? I promise,” he held his hand over his heart, “no noises.” 

She stared at them both for a minute and then nodded. “I suppose. You should rest up. But you,” she pointed her finger at Dean, “had better behave young man.”

“I will,” Dean told her, grabbing Sam’s hand and pulling him upstairs. Missouri shouted something after them but they ignored it and headed to ‘their’ room. 

“Alone at last.” Dean gave a sigh of satisfaction and leered at his brother. 

“Dean, we can’t. I promised.”

“I know. Just teasing.” Dean patted the area of the bed beside him. “C’mere Sasquatch.”

Sam settled down on the bed, curving into his brother’s warm body, cuddling down close. He ended up with his head tucked under Dean’s chin (and just how could that be so damned comfortable when he was taller than Dean anyway?!), one arm thrown over his brother’s chest, one leg over as well. He gave a deep, contented sigh. 

“Sleep, Sammy.”

“Love you Dean.”

And with that, they drifted off.

Dean was woken by soft kisses pressed all over his face. He smiled and opened his eyes lazily. He was greeted by an extreme close up of his lover’s face. 

“Hello beautiful.”

“About time you woke up.”

“How long was I out?”

Sam snickered. “Four hours.”

“What?” Dean sat up and looked at the clock. “Holy shit!”

“Relax. You needed the sleep.”

Dean looked back at Sam. “How long did you sleep?”

“About two hours.” He knew what Dean wanted to know next. “I lay here with you for a bit after that but then I got up and did some more research on the laptop. Came up with nothing again.” Sam looked away. Dean decided to let it go this time. He had a feeling Sam had been looking up ways to save him again. 

“Hey.” Dean captured Sam’s chin with his left hand and turned his face. “How ‘bout a good morning kiss?”

“It’s not morning,” Sam really couldn’t help himself sometimes. 

“Pretend.”

Sam smiled. “All right then. Good morning Dean.” He bent his head and kissed his brother’s lips. 

“Mornin’ Sammy.” Dean placed a second kiss on that sweet mouth, licking those luscious lips open and thrusting his tongue inside. He heard Sam moan and smiled. His other hand came up and carded through Sammy’s hair then pulled him down to the bed. “Baby, what you do to me.”

Sam shimmied against Dean. “I can feel what I do to you,” he grinned, licking his own lips and savoring the taste of Dean on them. 

Watching Sam’s eyes half close with bliss made Dean suddenly, blindingly hard. He flipped them over and ground his hips against his brother’s, making both of them groan. “Gonna suck you,” Dean moaned into Sam’s ear then began trailing down. 

“Dean, you can’t. We promised Missouri.”

“Screw Missouri.”

“I hope you don’t mean that literally.” 

Dean’s face got serious. “Never. Only one I ever want to do that with is you.”

Sam lost his breath. “Oh Dean,” he whispered, touched beyond the ability to say. He looked up at his brother, love shining in his eyes. He leant up a little and hugged him, nose buried under Dean’s ear. 

Dean eyes closed tight as he hugged back, all thoughts of sex forgotten--well, at least put on the back burner. “I love you, Sammy.”

“I love you too, Dean,“ came the instant reply. 

“Looks like I got here just in the nick of time,” Missouri’s voice came from the doorway. 

Dean shot a nasty look at her. “Actually you got here at the wrong time. Maybe you can come back a little later?”

“Dean!” Sam looked aghast. “Missouri, I’m sorry we almost broke the rule but—”

“This is why I don’t want you boys sharing a room,” Missouri interrupted. 

“I don’t see the problem,” Dean interjected. “We’ve both of age, both consenting and you said you can deal with the incest thing. So what’s the big deal? You just don’t want to hear the noise is all? You need beauty sleep that bad?”

“Dean!” Sam cried out again. 

Missouri smiled. “I’m an old lady, Dean Winchester.”

Dean sat up, keeping one hand on Sam, Missouri noticed. “All due respect, Miz Mosley, that’s a bunch of bullshit. I think you have a different reason for not wanting me and Sam together. And I have to tell you, I don’t even care what it is. I think we should go. We’ll still work your case but we’re going to a motel.”

“Dean, we don’t have to do that. I can be good,” Sam started to say but Dean turned to face him. 

“I won’t let her rules keep me from loving you, Sammy. Not when I’ve got so little time left to do it in.”

Sam shut up instantly. He hated hearing these reminders of Dean’s time left before he died. Still he understood what his brother was saying. He nodded solemnly. “I think Dean’s right Missouri. We should go. We’ll call you when we get settled in at the motel.”

Dean was already starting to get up when Missouri came over and used one hand to push on Dean’s chest, sending him back down on the bed. 

“Hey!”

“Listen here boy—“ and she went to grab his ear. That was when Sam’s voice cut through the air. 

“Missouri, don’t do that.” His voice was low, almost pleasant, but there was a definite hint of steel behind it. Her hand fell back to her side. 

“Sam, I was just tryin’ to get your stubborn brother to—“

“It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do,” Sam continued in that low voice. It was sending shivers down Dean’s spine. 

“Sammy, it’s okay.”

“No. It’s really not, Dean. We’re leaving, Missouri, going to a motel. And be grateful that we’re not just leaving town and this hunt undone. But I want you to know,” and here his voice became more than just buried steel; it became sharp as a blade, “you’re never to touch Dean like that again. Or say those mean things about him. He’s a good person, the best person I know and I love him. No one will harm him again. Not even you.”

Dean looked at his brother in a mix of startlement, awe, love and amusement. “Sam, you don’t have to do this.”

“Maybe it’s time someone did, Dean. Maybe it’s time someone protected you.” He turned back to Missouri. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be packed and out of here in a short time.”

The woman gaped at him for a moment and then turned on her heel and walked out, not saying a word. Sam rose and began packing the few things he had unpacked, back stiff. 

“Sam, we don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Sam turned with sudden ferocity. “We won’t stay here where she can keep making those snide little comments and whacking you on the hand.” Both of his hands rested on Dean’s shoulders. “You wouldn’t put up with it if someone were doing that to me, would you?”

Dean, privately thinking that the first time anyone--yes even Missouri--laid a hand on Sam he would shoot them with rock salt, shook his head. “No.”

“Then don’t expect me to put up with it either.”

Dean nodded, grabbed his gear, and followed Sam downstairs. They stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, where Missouri stood making tea. 

“We’ll call you when we have any news on the case,” Sam told her, his voice polite but tight. 

They were met with nothing but silence. After waiting a few beats the boys left. Dean drove them to a motel that was not that far away but not too close either. He checked them in (a king, as it had been since they became lovers) and drove around the hotel to their room. They brought their bags in and proceeded to protect the room. When they were finished Sam pulled out his laptop and opened it. He looked at his brother. 

“Did you want to check out the bars by yourself or did you want me as backup?”

Dean knew better than to say something about Missouri right now. Sam was wearing bitchface #47. “Too early for bars. We should go get something to eat first. Don’t want to drink on an empty stomach.”

Sam nodded and closed his laptop. He got up and followed Dean back out the door. They took the Impala to a well-lit diner that they had passed earlier. It was still rather early so there weren’t that many people there. They picked a booth near the back and sat down. An older waitress came over. 

“Coffee?”

“Yeah,” said Dean. 

“No thank you,” Sam answered. “Do you have iced tea?”

“Sure do, hon.”

“I’ll have a glass please.”

Dean smiled. His Sammy, always so polite. And he could see that the waitress, who looked to be in her 40s, thought he was precious. 

“One coffee and one iced tea, coming up.” She bustled off and came back quickly, plunking both down in front of them. “Need a minute to check the menu?” 

“What’s good tonight?” Dean asked, having found that asking that question helped when at diners like this. 

“Soup’s good. Tomato. Good and filling. Also the egg salad.”

Dean kept from making a face. Egg salad always made him want to yak. “I’ll have the tomato soup. And a side of fries.”

She dutifully wrote this down and then turned to Sam. 

“I’ll have the soup too and a turkey sandwich, please.”

She smiled at the please again and wrote that down too. “Coming up in a jif.” She walked off, not bothering to take the menus that the boys had never even cracked open. 

“She likes you,” Dean teased his little brother. 

“Oh shut up.” But Sam was smiling slightly as he said it. They sat in companionable silence for a while, playing footsie under the table. 

Eventually she came back with the food and set it down with an “enjoy”. The boys fell to eating, surprised at their appetites. Dean looked at Sam, all serious over there and smiled. 

“Hey Sammy.”

Sam looked up just in time to see Dean dunk a fry in the tomato soup and then eat it. 

“Dean, gross!”

“What? Tomato soup is one step away from being ketchup.”

Sam thought about that for a minute and then nodded. “Guess so.” He waved a hand expansively and said, “don’t let me stop you then.”

Shit. Dean looked down at the soup and then over to the fries. 

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“No one likes someone who says ‘I told you so’, Sammy.”

Sam grinned. “I didn’t say that.”

“Uh huh.”

They continued to eat, teasing each other and making small talk. The waitress came by a few times and refilled Dean’s coffee and once got Sam a new iced tea. At last, the plates were clean and she came by with the check. 

“Your turn,” Sam said, gesturing at it. 

“What? I paid last time!”

“On what planet?”

“That Chinese place, back in Wyoming.”

Sam nodded. “You did pay there, that’s true. But then I bought at the pizza place the next day.”

“What? No the pizza place was first then the Chinese.”

“Dean—“ Sam stopped as he realized the waitress was standing there, smiling. “Um, I promise we _will_ pay the check.”

“I understand, honey. My husband and I have this argument all the time.” She beamed at them. “How long have you two been together?”

“Sometimes it seems like all our lives,” Dean smiled up at her. Sam shot him a look. 

She laughed. “Oh, it’s all right. And don’t worry about being too ‘out’ around here, boys. Lawrence is actually pretty liberal about the gay stuff.”

Once upon a time this would have caused Dean to choke. Now he simply smiled, reached across the table and took hold of Sam’s hand. “Were we that obvious?”

“To me, anyway. My brother is gay so I’m used to it. Sounds like you’re taking a trip together?”

“Yes. I’m Dean and this is Sam,” he gestured. “And we are taking a trip. We stopped in to see a friend of ours.”

“Oh?” And Dean saw she was dying to ask but couldn’t think of a way without being nosy. So he put her out of her misery. 

“Yeah. Lady by the name of Missouri Mosley. Lives on Peach Street.”

The waitress frowned. “Don’t think I know her. I’m Dolores, by the way. Dolores Hamilton.”

Both boys looked at each other in shock. “Hamilton?” Sam repeated. 

“Yes.” She looked at them both with something akin to suspicion now. 

“Sorry. It’s just our friend Missouri told us that there was a man who died here in town not long ago named Randall Hamilton. But she said he didn’t have any relatives.”

Dolores snorted “Well I’m not exactly a relative. Not anymore anyway.” She saw the puzzled looks on their faces. “I was Randy’s wife until a few years ago.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks of shock. “His wife? But there was no mention of a wife in the newspapers.”

Dolores’ gaze darkened. “Newspapers?”

“What Sam means is in the articles that Missouri showed us when we got here. We didn’t see your name mentioned Dolores.”

Her gaze softened a bit. “Probably because Randy and I have divorced for over 5 years now. If something happens more than 5 years ago newspeople don’t seem to think it happened at all.”

Sam looked at Dean who practically heard Sam’s thoughts that Dolores hadn’t been mentioned anywhere in the family archives either. Nor had Randall mentioned her to Missouri. There had been no mention of her at all, in fact. 

“I thought I read that your husband, sorry ex-husband had no family except a Great Aunt who had to bury him.” Sam’s voice was conversational but with that little spark of interest that never failed to get people to talk to him. It worked this time too. 

“Oh Randy and I haven’t spoken since the divorce. I never even asked him for alimony.”

“Not a nice split, huh,” Sam commiserated. 

“Oh no, hon, it was actually very amicable. But we didn’t have anything in common anymore. Not that we ever really did.”

“So you were sorry when he died?” Dean put in. 

Dolores looked upset. “Of course I was! What kind of person do you take me for?”

“He didn’t mean anything,” Sam quickly smoothed things over. “Dean’s mouth just sometimes runs away with him.”

“Hey!”

But Dolores smiled. “Same thing with my husband, dear. _Men_ ,” uttered in a tone of mock disgust. 

Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing. Sam looked alarmed that Dolores and turned him into a ‘girlfriend’ but kept the smile plastered on his face. He went to ask her another question but she was called away. He kicked Dean’s leg as his big brother burst out laughing. 

“Shut up, jerk!”

“Oh honey, don’t be mad at me. You’ll get your lingerie in a twist!”

Sam kicked him again. They watched Dolores take a few more orders. “We need to find a way to talk to her for a while.”

“Leave it to me,” Dean said and stood. He went up to the register and paid the man there and then came back to the booth. He swallowed the rest of his coffee and slapped a huge tip down on the table. Sam got up and looked at him. “Trust me, Sammy.”

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. 

Dean’s heart warmed but he pushed that down and headed over to where Dolores stood. “Dolores?”

She turned. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry yes. But can we ask you something before we go?’

“Sure.”

“You said your brother was gay, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So would you happen to know any good gay bars in town?” Sam choked and Dean stepped closer and put his arm around him. “You all right, dear?” 

Sam stared at him, incredulous. 

“Oh there’s really only one gay bar in Lawrence. It’s called the Purple Parrot.”

“It’s nice though? Not too seedy?”

“Oh no!” Dolores smiled. “It’s very nice.”

Now Dean amped up his charm. “You’ve been there? I don’t suppose you’re off soon and would like to come with us?”

“Goodness, what would you want an old woman like me to come with you two you studs for?” She laughed. 

“Well, it would be nice to have someone to talk to about all this. And you could show us exactly where it is. We’d love to buy a drink to thank you, Dolores.” 

Now Sam got what Dean was doing. “Yes. It’s the least we can do for all your help and understanding.”

Dolores looked torn. “Well, I’ve got another hour on my shift here…”

“We can meet you there then,” Sam put in. 

“Yeah it would give Sam and I time to,” and here Dean let his voice drop into innuendo, “get ready for tonight.”

Dolores blushed (so did Sam) but she looked pleased. “Well, if you boys are sure…”

“We are.”

“Al right then. Why don’t you meet me back here in an hour?”

The boys agreed and walked off, glancing back to smile at her, their arms still around each other. They kept it up until they got in the Impala. 

“Whew! That is one serious fag hag!”

“Dean, you shouldn’t call her that!”

“Oh please. Ten to one that the reason her relationship didn’t work out with Randy is because she spent all her time with her gay brother. Probably wishes she was a man too so she could be gay.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. Dolores had seemed that way. “So you figure we use the gay card to get her to talk?”

“Oh I think she’ll tell us anything we want to know as long as act like lovers.”

“Which we are.”

“Exactly.”

“What was that getting ready stuff?” Sam asked as they got back to the hotel. “I thought you were going to go as you are.”

“Yeah, but if we’re going to a gay bar, Sammy, we’re going to have to make a few adjustments.”

Sam found out what Dean meant a little while later. And while he protested several times he couldn’t argue with the results he saw. As they pulled back in at the diner he shifted self-consciously in his seat. 

“I feel stupid.”

“Well you look hot. Now hush, there she is.”

“Boys,” Dolores came out. She had changed into casual clothes. “Still sure you want to do this?’

“We’re sure. Want shotgun, Dolores? Sam can move.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said as she climbed in the backseat. She gave them directions to the bar which was slightly out of town, chattering on the way. When they got there and got out it was to a well-lit but not too full parking lot. She gasped when she got a good look at them. “Oh heavens. Good thing you’re both together or you’d be beating them off with a stick!” Her voice turned misty. “You pretty ones are always gay. It’s not fair.”

Dean came over to her, his tight black shirt rippling under the leather jacket. Too tight jeans were tucked into work boots and his hair was messy and styled. He looked dangerous and sexy. 

“Can’t say I’m sorry I’m gay or that Sam is,” Dean teased her. “But if one of us were straight you know we’d fall for you.” Sam nearly choked at this corny line and then again when Dolores blushed and giggled and completely fell for it. Dean and Dolores headed in and he followed behind, uncomfortable in his outfit. 

Sam was wearing a torn white t-shirt that actually had belonged to Dean so it was too small and tight. It had ripped while he was pulling it on. Dean had yelled at him to keep it on when he tried to remove it. He was wearing an older, too tight, pair of jeans. But it was his hair that Dean had spent most of the time on. It was artfully mussed and the bangs fell over one eye. Sam thought he looked silly. Dean had assured him that he looked deeply sexy. 

“I’ll have to shoot people to keep them away from you,” Dean had half teased.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” Sam replied.


	4. Who says you can't go home again?

They walked into the bar and Sam nearly sighed in relief. He had never been in a gay bar before and he had horrible images of what it might look like inside. He chided himself for not being very PC but he still couldn’t help it. This place looked nothing like the images he had had in his head. It was clean, well-lit and looked like any other upscale bar. The only difference—all the clientele were men. Dean led them confidently up to the bar. 

Dean turned to the barkeep. “I’ll have a beer.” He looked back at Sam and quirked an eyebrow. 

“Me too, please,” his brother chimed in. 

The bartender turned to Dolores. “Usual, Dee?”

“Thanks Mike,” she nodded. 

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. Dean’s was mostly filled with ‘I told you so’. Sam’s was filled with _yeah shut up_. Mike the bartender came back and handed them their drinks then they went and found a table. Dean made sure to sit next to Sam and across from Dolores. He raised his beer in salute. “To Randall.”

“To Randall.” Dolores drained her glass in one quick gulp. She had not gotten a beer but something that looked like a gin and tonic. She raised a hand and a waiter came over quickly bearing a new shot glass. “Thanks Andy.”

“You seem to know a lot of people here,” Sam ventured to say. 

“My brother and I used to hang out here all the time. Before he met his husband and moved away.” She looked at them. “Are you two married?”

Sam blushed and looked down at his beer. Dean turned up his smile and put his hand on Sam’s arm. “No, not yet. Maybe someday.” He let a note of wistfulness creep into his voice. Sam heard it and raised his head to stare at his brother. 

“It’s a big step,” Dolores nodded. She was at least not chugging this second drink. “Randy and I were too young and did it too quickly. We rushed in when we should have waited, gotten to know each other better.”

“Dean and I know each other so well it’s scary,” Sam interjected heatedly. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to say this but he did. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure you two do know each other well. I’m just saying that Randy and I didn’t.” She sighed wistfully. “If I had known the truth about him I never would have married him.”

Dean leaned forward slightly. “Can I ask…?”

She smiled ruefully. “I can guess what you’re thinking. You’re thinking he was gay. No, that would have been fine if he had been. As I said with my brother and all…” She gulped down the rest of the drink. “No, turned out he was,” she paused and both boys leaned closer, “boring.”

Dean let out a little snort or surprise and laughter and Sam blinked rapidly. “Boring?” 

“Completely, 100% boring. I’ve always wanted a life of excitement and color and here was the most boring human being on the planet. He didn’t seem that way during our courtship and I thought after I married him that I could get him to be more adventurous but it turned out not to be the case.” Another drink appeared at her side. She smiled at the server and then turned back to the boys. “A woman always thinks she can change a man, you know? But there’s no changing their ways.” She looked steadily at Sam, as if waiting to hear his opinion. He nodded distractedly and then glanced sidelong at Dean. 

Boring? This was the great reveal? Dean leaned forward again. “So that was it? That’s why you and Randy divorced? He was boring?”

“He was boring.”

Dean sat back, stymied. Talk about your dead ends. All that effort and nothing but the guy was boring. He could have told himself that ages ago. He gulped some of his beer and looked at Sam, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines. 

Well, this had turned out to be a bust. Dolores had knocked back her third drink and was swaying a bit. She grinned. “Aren’t you boys going to dance?” she asked out of the blue. 

“Excuse me?” Sam asked her politely. His thoughts had been back with his laptop, thinking about more ways to research this case. 

“Seemsh,” she slurred a bit, “to me that you boysh should at least get a dance in. Or wouldsh you rather I go?”

Dean was thinking that since the rest of the reason for coming here was a bust that he and his baby brother should take advantage of Dolores idea. “Yeah, Sammy, how about a dance?”

Sam stared at him. 

Dean got up and stood beside him, offering one hand. “C’mon, darlin’. Please? One dance.”

He was about to object, never mind Dolores and her thoughts—she had become useless and irrelevant—when Sam saw the look in Dean’s eye. He paused and then took a breath. “Are you sure?” 

Dean took Sam’s hand and drew him up. “I’m sure, Sammy.” He led him out to the dance floor where they paused awkwardly. “Oh hell, c’mere.” He grabbed his brother by the waist and pulled their bodies together. He set his lover’s arms up on his shoulders and put his own around Sam’s waist. Then he started swaying to the music. 

Sam didn’t move for long moments and then he began to gracelessly sway as well. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Dolores beaming drunkenly at them. Then a hand captured his chin and turned his face back. He looked down into Dean’s eyes. 

“Over here is where the action is, Tiger. Mind paying attention to the guy who brought you in?”

“Sorry Dean. I’m just not a very good dancer.”

“I know,” Dean smiled to take the sting out the comment, “but it’s okay. This isn’t real dancing. Just move with me.” 

They swayed gently together as the song went on, growing more relaxed. All too soon the song ended a dance beat started. Neither had to ask as they walked off the floor, hand in hand. 

“Beautifulsh,” Dolores appeared to be crying. “So in lovesh, you two are!” she cried. She tried to get up and nearly fell off her chair. Sam, ever solicitous, went to help her. 

“I think we should take you home,” he said. “Where do you live, Dolores?”

“Whatsh?”

Mike the bartender called over, “I can take her home. Done it plenty of times before.”

“We can do it,” Dean put in, thinking this might be their chance to snoop a little more. “Just need to know where.” After a bit of a pause Mike pulled out a napkin and wrote something on it then handed it to Dean. He took it and read an address of 615 Tower Avenue. Together, he and Sam got Dolores, who was snoring lightly now, into the Impala and took her home. They found her keys and let themselves and her in. Sam was all for putting her in bed but Dean thought it would be better if she were on the couch. So that was where they put her. 

As Sam covered her with a blanket Dean took the opportunity to search around a little. He found a lot of gay related stuff and a ton of pictures of the same guy (obviously Dolores’s brother) but nothing that linked her to Randall. Had been a bit of a longshot, anyway. He went to Sam and spoke softly, “she good?”

“She’s gonna have a hangover tomorrow but yeah, she’s good.”

They left, leaving Dolores snoozing. 

Dean noticed how quiet Sam was in the car on the way back but left him alone. It wasn’t until they had both taken their showers and settled into bed together that he realized Sam had not said one word since leaving Dolores’s house. 

“Sammy? You okay?”

He felt his brother shift against him in the dark. “Yeah, just been a long day.”

Dean knew, both as a brother and as a lover, that this was not the truth—at least not the whole truth—but he let it go. “Go to sleep,” he muttered, pulling Sam a little closer to him. He lay there listening to Sam’s breathing, hearing it even out and become the breathing of sleep. Dean stayed awake for a while after but finally drifted off. 

They went back to the diner the next day but didn’t see Dolores. They spoke to some of her friends and others who might have known Randall but there were no leads. Sam did research on his computer and Dean cleaned his guns and watched TV. Several days passed and there was nothing to go on. Dean was beginning to think that this was a run of the mill case . He thought about mentioning it to his brother but didn’t. Sam seemed very quiet lately and almost skittish. He and Sam had not had more than a hand job or two and he was starting to wonder if his brother had rethought their relationship. 

It was bordering on a week when Dean finally broached the subject to Sam of their leaving. 

“I mean, we’re not finding anything and there doesn’t seem to be anything here that could have got this guy. Maybe it was a crazy attack thing and the guy was just paranoid. Missouri said she didn’t feel like the guy was cursed or anything.”

Sam, who was at his laptop again, said nothing. 

“I think we should call her, tell her we found nothing and chalk it up to humans, man. We need to find another case.” Behind that thought was he had lost another week, precious time gone. He noticed that Sam still hadn’t looked up from the computer. “Sam? Am I boring you?”

“What?” The shaggy hair rose a bit as eyes turned his way. “Sorry Dean. I was just…” He trailed off. 

“What is up with you lately?” Dean said from the bed where he was sitting. “You mad at me or something?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. For making you dance with me?” This thought had been quietly occurring to him off and on since Sam had started to act this way. “Cause if that’s what it was I’m sorry but I figured---“

His brother laughed and shook his head. “I’m not mad about that.”

“Then what are you mad about, Sammy?” he half asked, half demanded. “Tell me so I can fix it.”

He looked so sad and forlorn that Sam just had to get up and cross over to him. He sat down next to his brother on the bed, reaching up and brushing fingertips over Dean’s cheek. “There’s nothing. I’m not mad at you.”

Dean leant into the touch, closing his eyes briefly. He opened them to look again and spoke, “then what’s going on with you, baby?”

Sam felt a little shiver at the nickname and smiled inside. “I can’t tell you yet.” He put two fingers on Dean’s lips to forestall the protest he knew was coming. “It’s nothing bad but I just can’t tell you yet.” He stared earnestly into Dean’s eyes, and those eyes stared back. 

“Nothing bad?”

“No.”

“Not mad at me?”

“Not,” and here Dean voiced his deep scary thought that had been with him for a while, “not breaking up with me?” He was barely audible by the end of the question. 

Sam’s big hand cupped his face and brought their mouths together in a gentle kiss. “No, I’m not breaking up with you, Dean. Not going anywhere.”

Dean sat there, their foreheads resting against one another. Then he pulled back slightly and nodded. “You’ll tell me eventually.” It was not a question but a statement. 

“I promise,” Sam laughed lightly and pulled Dean back into a new kiss. It started to turn passionate then heated. Dean started to think that maybe they were finally going to have sex again when there came a knock on the door. 

“Go away!” he called out against his brother’s mouth, or would have except that Sam had immediately jumped up and headed for the door. Dean had had to put his hands out to keep from falling face first into the pillows. “Hey!”

“Sorry Dean,” he called as he opened the door. Outside was a man in a UPS uniform holding a package. He handed it Sam, muttered something and then held out the signature machine. Sam scribbled something on it, eyes never leaving the package, and then muttered something in return as the man left. He turned and closed the door absently. 

“You were expecting something?” Dean half teased. “Is that why we’ve been staying here?”

Sam turned bright red, much to his shock, and looked away. 

“Sammy?”

“I, um, I gotta—“ with that Sam disappeared into the bathroom. 

“What the fuck?” Dean asked himself as he got up and headed over there. He was just about to put his hand on the doorknob when an idea occurred to him. He stopped and then quietly knocked on the door. “Sam? Sam, I think I know what that is and it’s okay.”

Shocked silence from within then a squeaky voice said, “it is?”

“Gotta admit I never thought I’d have a use for one but if it’s with you then okay.”

The door opened and Sam appeared, eyes wide. “You mean that?”

“Sure,” Dean shrugged. “I mean, I trust you. I’ve never been that fond of them myself but for you I guess I could suffer,” he teased. He instantly regretted his flipness when Sam’s expression changed. He looked like he’d been hit in the stomach with a one-two punch. He quickly stepped through the doorway and hugged his brother. “I didn’t mean it like that Sam. Was just making a joke. I’m sorry.”

Sam was stiff in his arms. 

“Look let’s go out and get something to drink and then we’ll come back and take care of that,” he gestured to where the package sat on the sink. “I can’t promise I’ll like it or that I’ll ever want to use it again but I’m willing to give it a try.” This wasn’t helping, Sam wasn’t hugging him back. In fact he seemed to be shrinking away from him. 

“Sammy?”

Those big hands pushed him away and Sam was out of the bathroom, out of the room, running away. 

“Sam!” 

Dean took off after him, leaving their door hanging open wide as could be, caring about nothing but catching Sam, not letting him leave again. He chased him through city streets and then with a burst of speed, caught up to him in an alley behind a restaurant. They both went crashing into metal garbage cans, making an awful noise and getting god-knows-what on them but Dean didn’t care. This was too much like that time with the Scarecrow. Too much like Stanford. Too much like…

Sam fought against him for a moment but then went suddenly limp. Dean, who had been using his momentum, fell forward onto his brother. “Shit!” They hit the asphalt and he felt his jeans rip. Ignoring that and the sudden bursts of pain he grabbed hold of Sam by the shoulders and looked at him. 

“What the fuck, Sammy? Just because I’ve never done that before, and am not too sure about it, you go crazy and take off on me again?!” He resisted the urge to shake his brother. 

Sam said nothing, merely keeping his head down. 

“Goddammit, look at me Sammy!” He wrenched that well-loved face up and saw such misery in Sam’s eyes that he lost his breath. “Didn’t realize it meant that much to you,” he finally said. 

Still Sam said nothing. 

“C’mon.” He helped Sam up and then put his arm around his waist. “Let’s get back.” They limped back to the motel, neither saying a word. Their room was as they had left it. Dean went in and got the box and brought it back out to the bed where Sam was sitting mournfully. He set the box down and began to dig through the wrappings. He thought about saying something but kept quiet instead, searching for what Sam had bought. He thought maybe Sam had taken it out of the box at first when he couldn’t find anything. At last his fingers hit another box and he pulled it out. This one was much smaller. He looked at it curiously and then revised his thoughts. He went to open it when Sam finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he said and then he fell silent again. Dean looked at him for a long time and then opened the box. 

He sat staring at the contents for a very long time. 

“Sammy?” It was soft it was hard to hear. 

No reply. 

“Is this what I think it is?” He picked up the small object and held it up to his eyes. 

A wedding ring. A plain solid gold band of a ring. “Sam? You bought a wedding ring? Who were you going to give it to?” Dean had his hopes but held his breath anyway. 

After the longest moment of his life, Sam finally answered—without looking up. “You.”

Dean exhaled noisily. Then he thought back to the conversation and all that he had said and realized what was wrong. “Oh Sammy love,” he crooned and closed the distance between them instantly. He took his brother’s stiff body in his arms and held him tight. “I’m sorry. You knew it was a ring but I thought,” and now it sounded stupid, “I thought it was a sex toy. Like maybe a dildo you wanted to try out on me.”

At long last Sam raised his head up. His eyes were wide with shock. “A dildo?”

“Yeah.” Dean coughed nervously. “I thought you might have ordered one or something. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was this.” He still held the ring in his hand. 

“That’s why you said those things?” Sam seemed to be having trouble processing this. 

“Yeah.”

“And now that you know that it’s,” and here Sam paused and tried not to gulp, “that?”

“You mean, now that I know you were going to ask me to marry you?”

Sam ducked his head and mumbled something like “yeah.”

“Hey.” A hand touched his face and lifted his head. The brothers eyes’ met and Dean smiled gently. “Remember what I said to you at Missouri’s?”

Sam’s face grew distant as he recalled the past. 

“Outside the house?” Dean prompted. 

The face cleared. “About how you’d marry me if we could. Yeah, that’s when I got the idea for this.”

A chuckle wafted between them. “Guess great minds think alike then cause when you said you wanted it too I began to make plans of my own.”

“You did?”

“Yep. As soon as we got done with this case and got out of here I was going to find a jewelry store and get an engagement ring for you, Sammy. _I_ was going to propose to _you_.”

They stared at each other for long moments and then they both burst out laughing. It soon died out when Sammy turned serious. “I guess neither one of us really got to do it, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dean drawled. He held out the hand that held the ring. “Why don’t you try it and see?”

Those beautiful eyes stared at him for a long time. “Dean, you can’t be serious. This is hardly romantic. I mean, we’re covered in garbage in a fleabag of a motel! Not what I’d call the time to propose.”

Dean smiled gently as he stood. “I think it’s the perfect time. If I had a ring I would.”

“You would?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“But I wanted to do it right.”

Dean knew what Sam meant but brushed it aside. “I think as long as you ask the question, it’s ‘done right’, sweetheart.” He looked down at his brother on the hotel bed and smiled. “You gonna ask or do I have to die an old maid?”

That spurred Sam like nothing else could. He started to stand and then slid to the floor instead. He got on one knee and took his brother’s callused hand. In the other he held the ring. 

“Dean Winchester, you’re my brother, my best friend, my lover and all the family I could ever want or need. Will you please do me the honor of marrying me?”

Dean looked down at his brother. “Yes,” he croaked out. “Oh yes, my Sammy.” With that his knees gave out and he collapsed down into Sam’s waiting arms. The tears spilled and he cried against that broad chest. He felt a wetness against his own and knew Sam was crying too. 

They held each other for a long moment in time and then Sam drew back slightly. He raised Dean’s left hand and kissed the palm, then started to place the ring on his finger. 

“Wait.”

Sam froze, his face stricken. 

“Not changing my mind, baby. But if I wear this I want it to be for real. A ceremony and everything.” He grinned. “You’ve got to make an honest man out me.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Really? You mean that?”

Dean grinned back at him. “Course I do. I told you we’d do that and then we wouldn’t even have to change our names.”

“But how can we when we’re brothers?”

“We’ll find a way, Sam,” he promised. “So hold onto that,” he gestured at the ring held tight in Sam’s hand. “When you put it on my finger, it’ll be for real.”

“Oh Dean.” Sam couldn’t keep the watery sound of tears out of his voice. Dean reached forward and collected his baby brother into his arms. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Same here,” Dean choked out. “Love you too, Sammy.” 

They stayed there, on their knees, in that tight hug for a long time. Then Dean groaned theatrically. “I gotta stand up or I’ll be stuck this way.”

Sam giggled— _giggled_ —and got up. He held his hand out to help Dean, who took it. It was like he wasn’t afraid anymore. 

“Dude. We stink.”

“You want first shower?” Sam asked. 

Dean got a glimmer in his eye. “How about we share?”

Sam grinned. “It would help conserve water.”

“Exactly. You know how much I care about the environment.”

Laughing they went into the bathroom and stripped off their clothes. As Sam got their stuff together Dean turned the shower to the temperature he liked. Then he waited. “Got everything you need there, Princess?”

Once upon a time that would have made Sam mad. Now he understood the teasing nickname for what it was. 

“Got everything I need right here,” Sam said as he climbed in and took hold of his brother. Their lips met in a loving kiss. 

 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep the proposal a secret, so I did not add it to the tags. If anyone thinks that it should be added there, I will--of course--be more than happy to.


End file.
